


Aon

by redfenix



Series: Lethal Beauty [1]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-22
Updated: 2004-08-22
Packaged: 2019-08-07 03:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfenix/pseuds/redfenix





	Aon

She stood at the end of the densely wooded driveway, unsure of what was going to happen once she walked into these mutant’s lives. _Would they change her life or would she change theirs?_ She asked herself.

A mild breeze blew in the grove ahead of her, sending the tails of her black leather trench coat flapping in the wind.  Wind driven leaves swirled around her in a vortex, making strands of her waist length jet black hair dance in the air.

She shivered at the dramatic temperature change, and cursed lightly as her hair flew into her face. Dropping her bag to the ground, she dipped a hand into her coat pocket rooting around for an elastic tie she kept there. Her fingers closed over the worn rubber band, and she withdrew her hand. Raising her hands to bind her hair back, a roaring sound off in the distance caught her ear.

Dismissing the sound as local traffic, she brushed her hands down the front of her white button-down shirt to her tight black leather pants as she knelt to pick up her bag.

Rising, her stomach clenched tightly, tangling into knots. For the first time in a very long time, she was scared. For once she didn’t know what stood ahead of her. She wasn’t entirely sure she enjoyed that feeling.

She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her here, what made her think to contact Xavier. Or what even made her come once he had extended the offer. Xavier ran a school for gifted youngsters, and led a team of freedom fighters. She had no place being here, wasn’t gifted nor a freedom fighter, but yet here she stood.

She frowned as the roaring grew louder, and glanced around. The house stood at the other end of the long driveway, the full moon casting eerie shadows across the lawn. The brick building lay still and dark in the night. The roar grew louder, and she tensed, her senses screaming to full alert. The noise grew closer and she realized it was nearing her, quickly.

Shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, she quickly tossed her bag aside. Her hand disappeared into her coat and came to rest on a smooth, slick ivory handle. The roar began to vibrate in her head, and she quickly drew her hand out in front of her.

Clasping her hands together in front of her, she balanced the weight of the sword in front of her. She picked out the sound of a motorcycle engine as the roaring, and glanced into the sky. She narrowed her eyes when she realized it was nearly two a.m. and no one in their right mind would be out on a joyride this time of the morning.

She shifted her hands, settling the ivory against her palms so it sat more securely. A light blazed onto the bushes beside her, and she spun bracing her weight on her right foot.

The motorcycle sped into her vision, a dark form riding astride. Squinting for a better look, she was unable to make out anything more than the shape of a man. She straightened her back, preparing for a fight. Every nerve ending seemed to explode with energy as she waited for the rider to speed towards her. Taking no chances, she braced her arms for an impact and lifted them slightly away from her hips.

She swung her hands in a wide arc, her arms humming from the vibration of the impact. Finishing her swing, she found herself with her back to the man. Surprised at the sudden lightness of the weapon in her hand, she looked down to see the blade of her sword shattered at its midpoint. Anger fueled through her as she spun to face her opponent.

The motorcycle rider turned the bike around in a tight U-turn, and sped back to her. Throwing her ruined sword into the grass beside her, she swiveled her hips, preparing to fight.

A stunning pain flashed through her, dropping her to her knees. Looking down she could see her shirt torn, slashed along her waist in three long strips. A wide vivid red stain began spreading quickly, a startling contrast against the white of her shirt. Tearing her shirt aside, she peeled it back to reveal three deep gashes on her waist. The skin had been stripped away, the muscles left glistening as dark blood began flowing freely.

Thick, inky black blood. The blood signifying death.

She gasped and slapped a hand over the wound in an effort to staunch the flow of blood, wincing at the blinding pain. She struggled for air, the breath wheezing from her punctured lung. Sweat formed and beaded along her brow as she struggled to remain upright.

Losing the battle with her weakening muscles she hunched over, one hand bracing against the ground for support. The squeal of tires and smell of burning rubber reached her and she struggled to look up.

The rider swung his leg over the motorcycle, and took a few steps toward her. She grimaced as another wave of pain overcame her, but not before sighting three long blades protruding from the riders’ left hand. She jumped and winced slightly when the blades disappeared into his hand with a soft *snikt*.

Coldness washed over her and she fought against the spasm that threatened to rock her entire body.  _I’m going into shock_ , she thought to herself as her vision began to blur. She slumped forward, her arm finally giving out, no longer able to maintain her weight. A pair of strong hands enveloped her shoulders and pushed her gently backwards to the ground.

He reached over and lifted her hand from the wound, the blood flowing freely even with the pressure she was applying. He swore softly to himself when he saw her hand was covered with dark, sticky blood. He carefully leaned closer to examine the wound, setting a hand to the pavement to steady his balance.

She coughed and bucked against him, blood spurting out of the gaping wound. 

“Shit.” He swore vehemently, slapping her hand back over the wound. Her coughing fit turned violent and he grimaced as blood splattered across his jeans. Sliding his hand under her neck, he lifted her head back in an effort to clear her windpipe. A loud sucking noise told him that it would do no good; one of her lungs was punctured.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Her vision wavered, blurred then cleared again. She jerked violently and then was still. Her slowing pulse beat against his hand, becoming faint as the seconds ticked by. She stared up at the rider, using the last bit of strength she had to smile at him. He watched, helpless to do anything to stop her from dying. The air was suddenly still as she rasped out her last breath, her lungs failing. She struggled against him, twisting and turning for more air.

Her pulse stilled against his hand, her body went limp.

She was gone.

 

******

 

Voices screamed in her head, hauntingly familiar. Jerking violently, her eyes snapped open. The glaring overhead lights momentarily blinded her and she raised a hand up to shade her eyes. Panic washed over her and she gasped for air.

Warm, sweet air filled her lungs. Sighing out a breath, she quickly sat up, frowning as she took in her surroundings. The room was new and unfamiliar yet still held a comforting quality she couldn’t explain.

A loud fast beeping punctured the air. Laying a hand against her chest, she realized the beeping echoed her own heartbeat. Struggling to calm the pounding, she reached up to rip off the wires connected to her chest.

The room fell into silence.

“Where am I?” she murmured quietly under her breath. Her memory flooded back to her in a rush and she dropped a hand to her side. She sighed when she felt the skin smooth, soft and unmarred.

“You’re awake.”

Jumping at the sudden voice, she scanned the room unsure of where the voice came from. She could see she was in a medical lab of some type, but couldn’t detect anyone else in the room with her.

A sudden movement passed in her peripheral vision, and she snapped her head to the right. A slender red head rose from behind a computer console and walked toward her.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up. I’m-“

“Jean Grey.”

Startled, Jean stared at her fascinated.  “How did you...” Trailing off she tipped her head, puzzled.

“I know who all of you are. I came looking for you.” The woman smiled as the soft music of an Irish lilt floated through the room and piqued Jean’s interest even more.  The smile was warm and inviting, but didn’t even begin to touch her eyes.  The emerald green stayed focused and didn’t seem at all friendly.  It immediately put Jean on guard, but she quickly masked it. “Well you have me at a disadvantage.” Reaching forward Jean began the process of removing wires and tubes. Smiling at her, she continued. “I have no idea who you are.”

“Brenna.” She said simply, keeping her face void of emotion and thought. 

Jean paused, waiting for further information. When none was offered, she continued removing medical equipment. Brenna winced slightly as Jean slid the IV needle from her arm.

“Sorry.” Jean said, smiling apologetically to her.

Shrugging and brushing the apology aside, Brenna said simply. “It’ll heal.”

Jean ran her finger over the clear porcelain like surface of her skin. She noticed the rigid map of blue veins clearly visible on the already healed skin and frowned. “Yes, it will.” Her frown deepened as her gaze flicked over Brenna’s healed side, the skin perfect and unscarred where hours before it had lain in shreds. “Yes, it will.” She murmured under her breath again, more to herself than to Brenna.

Jean stepped behind the stranger, her eyes soaking up the scars that lay along her back. Reaching out, she gently laid her hand against the warm skin and murmured to herself. “If you heal, then why not –“

The med lab doors slid open and Jean snapped her hand back, guiltily.   
Brenna suddenly realized she was nude and scrambled to cover herself. A man sitting in a wheelchair entered the room, followed by a group of four very strange looking people. He silently glided over to the med table and came to a rest beside her. Titling his head in a slight nod to her, he smiled warmly. “Brenna.”

“Xavier.”

Jean stared at the Professor dumbfounded. “You know her?”

The Professor opened his mouth to explain but Brenna held up a hand, causing him to halt his words. “In a way. I contacted Xavier about coming here to visit for a while. He told me about the team he assembled in one of our conversations.”

“Is she here to join us?” A man from the group stepped forward and frowned at the Professor. “Isn’t that something that you should have told us beforehand?”

“I wasn’t sure if she would come here Scott. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.” Scott stared at the Professor puzzled.

Waving a hand to dismiss him, Xavier wheeled his chair across the room. “I’ll explain in greater detail later Scott. I think perhaps Brenna might be more comfortable speaking to us if she were dressed.”

Swearing softly to herself, Jean frowned at the Professor. “Sorry Professor.” She turned to face a steel locker against the opposite wall and creased her forehead in concentration. Brenna watched in fascination as the locker handle lifted and the gray metal doors swung open. Her eyes widened in surprise when one of the sweat suits folded neatly inside floated across the room and settled gently on the table next to her.

“Let me introduce the rest of my associates and then we’ll leave you to get dressed.” Xavier waved his hand in the direction of a petite black woman with long white hair. “This is Ororo Monroe, also known as Storm.” Swinging his hand to the left, he pointed at a large gentleman covered with blue fur. “This is Henry McCoy, also known as Beast.”

“Scott Summers.” The gentleman who had spoken before piped in voluntarily. Xavier nodded. “Also known as Cyclops.” Gesturing to the last person in the group, he smiled. “And I believe you’ve already met Logan.”

Recognition bloomed in Brenna’s head as she stared at Logan. Remembering his face as the man on the motorcycle, she narrowed her eyes and sneered. “And what do they call you?” She asked as she absently ran a hand down her once marred side. “Slash.”

Logan narrowed his eyes as well, mistrust instantly clouding his judgment. “What do they call you? Dumb?”

_Logan._

Logan cut his head to the Professor. Sighing, he looked back over at Brenna, his frown deepening. He mumbled “Wolverine” and spun around, storming out of the room.

Sighing heavily Jean shook her head. “Well now.” She waved her arms to shoo everyone out of the lab. “Alright everyone, let’s let Brenna get dressed and then we can annoy her with a thousand questions.”

Once the med lab doors slid closed, she sighed. “Whew. Sorry about that. Logan has the manners of a goat.”

Brenna smiled. “That’s okay.” She stood, dropping the sheet to the floor. As she reached around for the sweatshirt, Jean again saw the long, thin scars along her back. She bit her lip to keep from asking too many questions, not wanting to offend Brenna.

Brenna slid into the sweat suit and zipped up the front of the top. Curiosity got the better of her.  “So, what do they call you?”

She shrugged and smiled mischievously at Brenna. “Jean.”

“No clever nickname?”

“Nope. Just plain old Jean.”

Brenna chuckled softly to herself and smiled. These people and their nicknames. Beast. Cyclops. Wolverine. What was next, some guy who shot ice cubes from his hands and was called The Icemaker?

Brenna stretched luxuriously, muscles aching from lying on the table for so long, joints popping from disuse. "Well, let's gets this over with."

 

******

 

Brenna settled herself deeper into the couch cushion and nervously cleared her throat. All eyes in the room were staring intently at her and she wasn't used to this much attention at all once.  She sighed deeply, held the breath in for a few moments and then quickly exhaled.

”Guess the easiest thing to do would be to start at the beginning.  My name is Brenna MacBradaigh.  I was born in Kilkenny Ireland on a small farm outside of the main part of town.” She paused for a moment, gathering her courage to speak her next words.  “In 1510.”

Her eyes scanned the silent room.  Six pairs of eyes stared back at her, their owners unable to find any words to fully grasp exactly what she just said. Though they had encountered every conceivable mutation discovered, it was nothing new to find someone else with a genetic defect unheard of before.  She plodded on, knowing the biggest shock would come next, it always did.

“I died in 1537.” A soft gasp could be heard across the room, but she was unable to tell who made the small sound.

“Inconceivable.” Hank whispered from across the room.

A small smile played across Brenna’s lips.  “Oh, I assure you Hank, it’s entirely conceivable; I’ve stood over my own grave.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at her, and she could all but feel the distaste flowing from him.  “What are you, a ghost?”

“If only life were that simple, Logan.” She whispered and shook her head.  “No, I am not a ghost; I can assure you of that.  I said I have stood over my own grave, I did not say there was anything in that grave.  Of course my parents believed differently back then, but…” She trailed off and sighed.  “I am an immortal, fated to walk this life for an eternity, unless of course someone manages to chop my head off.”

“Least you have a way out.” Logan mumbled under his breath to himself, but still loud enough that everyone in the room could hear him, especially Brenna.  She opened her mouth for a smartass comeback, but decided against it at the last moment, and snapped her mouth shut.

Ignoring Logan, she continued with her story.

“I was kidnapped a few days before my twenty-seventh birthday by a general of the British army that had invaded Ireland in an effort to spread Christianity.  He was going around killing or taking hostages of those who stood against his direct orders to practice the beliefs.  ‘Under direct orders from the Queen Herself.’ he said.”  Brenna snorted loudly and grimaced at the memory.

“That’s what he said anyway, though the man was no more Christian than the Queen herself.  He had a particular fancy for...sadomasochism, though the Marquis de Sade wasn’t born yet, so it wasn’t called that.  But it’s what it was nonetheless…” Brenna trailed off as the room around her disappeared and she was forced to relieve that horrible night.

 

_She stood in the middle of the tent, nude. Her arms tied above her. They had begun to ache from being held above her for so long.  She had tried to relax her arms against the rough metal chains, but the sharp metal sliced through her skin and caused painful cuts.  She lost track of time after a few hours and had begun concentrating hard on keeping the metal slack at her wrists.  “Maybe I should just slacken my arms, slice my wrists open and have a quick death.” she whispered to herself._

_“I assure you, bitch, you will do no such thing.” Alaric Merris stepped out of the darkness and hissed at her.  “You will stay alive until I give you permission to die.”_

_Hate welled inside her and she spat at the floor just in front of his feet. She had watched him slaughter her sister right before her eyes.  He’d decided to spare her life, for the moment, when he’d taken an instant liking to her and had demanded that his men bring her to his tent. He had mumbled something about her being different but had said nothing more to her until now. His first words to her showed her that the vehemence she felt coursing through her when they first met had only grown stronger. “You bastard.”_

_He smiled widely and a deep rumbling laugh could be heard throughout the tent.  “Coming from a whore like you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”  Lowering his hands from behind him, she could see a short leather riding crop in his hands._

_Swallowing hard, Brenna could feel herself starting to shake from nervousness.  “What do you intend to do to me?”_

_“Turn around.” He barked at her._

_Again, she repeated her question, and again he simply barked out the order for her to turn around._

_Defiance built within her and she narrowed her eyes at him.  She wrapped her hands around the metal of the chain, ignoring the bite of steel against her skin, and lifted her feet.  The weight of her body forced the metal to slice through the skin on her wrists and bright red blood instantly began streaming down her arms._

_Alaric cried out in anger and stepped forward towards her.  He was knocked back several feet when her foot connected with his chest with an amount of force he didn’t think her capable of._

_Again she jerked on the metal chains and cried out in pain when the metal bit even deeper, her arms becoming coated with the burning hot red liquid._

_“No!” Alaric screamed out and lunged at her.  The force of his body slammed into hers and knocked them both to the floor, the metal chain dislodging from its pin in the support._

_“You bitch!” He yelled in her ear.  “You die when I say!”   He used her back to push himself up, pressing her onto her stomach._

_She cried out in agony as his foot connected with her stomach.  The force of the kick pushed the bile rising in her throat out and she choked as the acidic liquid passed her lips.  She gasped for air as the spasms stopped and slid her face to the side to look up at him.  “Please.” She whispered out, desperate for him to stop and at least let her die to be with her sister once more._

_Fury sang brightly in his eyes and she lowered her head, knowing she would indeed die, but only when he was finished with her.  She closed her eyes and began thinking of her parents.  Of their love for her and how much she would miss them._

_A sharp crack brought her out of her thoughts and she cried out in pain.  Almost instantly, Alaric lowered the whip back down to connect harshly against her back.  Her vision became black with pain as he landed blow after agonizing blow on her back.  It didn’t take long for the skin to finally break and blood to begin streaming off her back as the skin was laid back to expose the muscles that lay beneath._

_The smell of violence filled the tent and stung her eyes.  It only seemed to arouse, and frustrate, him more. He screamed out in annoyance as the last of the skin on her back was stripped and he threw the whip, coated with gore, into the corner.  He reached up to the waist band of his pants and hastily pushed the garment to his ankles.  Dropping to his knees, he moved himself around behind her and yanked her hips up._

_“You will die knowing me, you cunt.” He roughly shoved himself into her, and fresh burning pain exploded through her body._

_He paused slightly, and smirked.  “A virgin.  The bitch is a virgin!” Pounding himself back into her he tossed his head back and laughed. “Then you will die knowing only me!”_

_Hot, wet liquid flowed down her legs and she bit back a scream.  He mindlessly pounded himself into her, lost in his own pleasure.  He slammed his hips against her roughly and hissed at her.  “Scream for me, virgin.”_

_Brenna could do no more than shake her head side to side slowly._

_“Dammit bitch, scream.” He slammed into her again._

_“No,.” she whispered._

_Her defiance angered him further.  “You fucking cunt.  Scream for me!”_

_Brenna gritted her teeth and bore down against the pain to find her voice.  “No, I will not, you English prick.”_

_Alaric screamed out in hatred, pure rage flowing through his veins for the woman below him.  Fumbling with the bulky material of his pants, he closed his hand over the hilt of his dirk.  He roughly jerked himself out of her and she groaned softly to herself, happy the rape was over. She prayed for death._

_As he leaned over her back to whisper in her ear, her blood soaked through his shirt, causing the wet fabric to stick to his chest.  Pulling his hand back, he hissed in her ear.  “You will scream for me, you bitch.  You will scream loud enough that the entire camp will hear you.  Your scream will be the last thing you hear.”  He punctuated his last word by slamming his hand forward into her._

_She screamed in agony as the solid steel blade of the dirk slid easily into the skin between her legs.  It’s passage lubricated by the blood trickling from his earlier violent entry.  The tip of the sharp blade pierced through her womb and a torrent of blood flooded up into her body and down over his hand._

_She screamed again as he roughly withdrew the blade from her, and slammed the knife into her ruined back.  A spray of blood coated him from head to toe, his teeth gleaming whitely in stark contrast to the gore covering him as he beamed at his triumph._

_The bitch had screamed for him._

 

A soft sobbing shattered the scene in Brenna’s mind and she shook her head gently to clear it.  The violence of the memory hung heavily on her chest and she breathed in deeply to clear it.  Scanning the room she saw that Jean held a tissue to her eyes, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

“He left me there, dying in a pool of my own blood.” Brenna whispered softly to the occupants of the room.  A single tear slipped slowly down her cheek and she wiped it quickly away.  “I’m sorry I can’t...”

The Professor glided over to her on a cushion of air and tapped her gently on the shoulder.  “That’s okay, we can continue another time if you would like.”

Brenna simply nodded her head in agreement.

A loud snort came from behind her and Brenna snapped her head around to see Logan standing at the window, a look of amusement plastered on his face. 

“And you find this funny Logan?” Brenna snapped.

“Lady I’m still going on the face that you’ve been on this hellhole for over 400 years and all someone’s gotta do is chop your head off and end it all.”  He smirked and shook his head.

Brenna narrowed her eyes at him and struggled to rein in her temper.  “Oh yes of course, the indelible Wolverine.  Gifted with eternal life…with no way out.”  Standing, she turned to face Logan fully.  “Tell me Logan, do YOU enjoy watching everyone you love die?”

He scowled at the tall woman before him and a loud *snikt* reverberated through the room as his adamantium claws shot through his knuckles.  “You know what these feel like lady. Want to again?”

A small smirk played over her face, but she stood her ground.  “My, my.  Have I hit a nerve?”

Logan growled low in his throat, his breathing becoming marked and hitching. He knew something was off when he first encountered her, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it since. Since he always went with the act first think mentality, he figured why change now.  He braced his body to lash out at her, but was stopped suddenly. His eyes flicked over to see the Professor sitting next to her.

Lowering his arms, he gritted his teeth and the adamantium was retracted with flash.  “Stay away from me lady, you don’t know anything.” He spun and stalked out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

 _I know more than you think Logan_ , Brenna said silently to herself, _I know more hurt than you will ever know in a thousand lifetimes_.

 

******

 

Brenna lay in the bed Xavier had provided for her, but she found herself unable to sleep. She debated waking Jean up as she seemed to be the only one so far that had softened up to her but was reluctant to intrude. She watched as the minutes ticked by and the darkness of the room began to soften slowly.  The dim light began filtering through the blinds and she decided to go look for the remains of her sword.

She pulled on a worn gray sweater, tattered jeans, and faded boots and made her way to the front of the mansion. She shivered as she closed the door, a mild chill lying in the air and the sweater providing little to no protection against it.

Brenna stepped into a patch of sunlight and raised her face to the early morning sun. An army of goosebumps broke out on her flesh, her skin overly sensitive from dying and reawakening. It was her body’s way to force her to reevaluate things around her. Keep everything in check and prevent her from taking her immortality for granted.  Her body would take a few days to readjust itself to the real world again.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she made her way to the end of the driveway.

A light fog hugged the ground; the sun's rays were not yet strong enough to burn away the moisture. Slowly scanning the ground, a glint of metal caught her eye.

Kneeling onto the damp ground, Brenna reached over and picked up the remains of her sword. Her vision blurred and she felt herself fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. A wave of sadness passed over her, her mood changing to match the gloomy haze that surrounded her.

Rolling the ivory handle around in the palm of her hand she noticed the difference in weight. The ivory handle was perfectly intact, but the metal blade ended in with jagged edge midway up.

Her shoulders dropped and she let the tears fall freely now, mourning for the sword. Rage and anguish flowed unrestrained in her now.

Sorrow for the friend she lost.

Rage at the man that took it from her.

After a few minutes her tears subsided. She raised a hand to her face, wiping furiously to erase what she considered a weakness. A blatant display of emotion.

Sighing deeply, she clutched the sword hilt to her chest; a storm brewing in her once again. Her heart filled with anger, and clenched when she realized it was her own fault.

"Slan go fioll…" Whispering to the sword as a single tear escaped down her cheek and dropped onto the ruined blade. _Goodbye for now._

"It's just a sword."

Startled but still on edge, she jumped to a standing position her arm automatically swinging the ruined sword hilt in an outward motion towards the voice.

Logan stepped back, startled by the amount of violence he could suddenly smell emanating from her. It dripped from her pores and surrounded him in the faint autumn breeze.  Throwing his hands up in defense, he resisted the urge to take a step back. "Whoa, take it easy."

"It's never just a sword." She said through gritted teeth, turning to face him.

Understanding that this was one fight he didn't want to pick however distrusting of her he was, he lowered his hands. "Ok, ok. Like I said, take it easy."

Brenna narrowed her eyes at him, rage bubbling inside of her like a hot furnace. "Pog ma thoin."

Puzzlement crossed his face briefly, then changing to amusement when he realized she had just cussed at him in another language. He felt a crack in the distaste he felt for her.  "You could at least cuss at me in English."

A wicked smile spread over her face, her eyes flashing in amusement. Dropping her arm down, she narrowed her eyes at him. "How'd you know?"

"I don't know what you said, but I can tell when a woman's cussing at me."

Rage slowly began seeping from her.  However much of an annoyance he was, Logan was probably the only person at the mansion who could even come close to understanding what it was like.  Bending, she slipped the ruined blade into her boot. Rising to her feet, she smiled and nodded her head at him. "Good day Logan."

He smirked and shook his head. Wondering exactly what it was that she had said to him, he called out after her.

"Kiss my arse."

Another crack formed. He appreciated a good smartass, no matter how much he disliked them.  He couldn’t control the brief thought that flashed through his head, and it surprised him why it was there in the first place. Going with it, a wide smile spread over his face.

"Not a chance in hell Logan." She tossed at him as she smirked. It abruptly brought a halt to his rampant thoughts.

She spun on her heel, turning away from him because she was afraid the expression on her face would betray the laughter quickly raising in her that was fighting for release.

   
******

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Couldn’t rid himself of the agonizing look of pain on her face as she died right before his very eyes just a few nights ago. Knowing he caused it just made it all the more unforgettable.  It seemed to be permanently emblazoned on his mind.

Seeing her kneeling on the lawn, her body hunched over the remnants of her sword seems to be burned there as well. Tears streaming down her face as she whispered goodbye to her companion. 

Her face kept swimming in his head, blaming him for her misfortune.  It was keeping him awake at night.  Just something else to add into the mix of things that seemed to keep him perpetually awake night after night. He had been feeling an odd mixture of emotions since that night. One minute he despised her while in the next he wanted to toss her to the floor and mindlessly mate with her.

He wanted to feel her voice whispering in his ear as they merged.  Wanted her to know he was responsible for her screams that would echo off the wood paneled walls in his room.  Needed to feel the heat of her skin against his as her legs wrapped around his waist. 

Feeling a tightening in his groin, he growled in frustration and pushed himself off the bed.  He ran a hand over his tired face as he approached the window and stared at the lush forest that surrounded the building.  He watched a pair of deer emerge from the dark line of trees.  They silently feasted on the rich clover in the field, unaware that they were being watched.

He filtered out all thoughts of her and concentrated on the pair outside.  Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and felt the last remnants of his thoughts of her slide away.  Two heartbeats thudded in his head rhythmically.

He let the pattern sooth him, felt the rest of the tension in his body melt away. Opening his eyes, he saw the buck nudge the doe and they both disappeared back into the woods.

Calmer now than he had felt in the past few days, he realized what he needed to do.  He felt an overwhelming need to set things right between himself and Brenna. If nothing else, it would clear his conscience of ruining her sword. 

And maybe it would rid him of those damn thoughts of her naked and writhing beneath him. 

 

******

 

“Can I help you?” 

Logan stared back at the green eyes that curiously wondered why he was here. He could see the sadness spilling forth through them and was certain her eyes would light up, change to a fiery emerald when things were different, times better. The light from the hallway played in her damp waist length hair, creating a soft halo around her face, giving her the appearance of a dark angel.   She clutched a large violet towel around her, her skin covered with water droplets from the shower she had just stepped out of.  He felt his throat tighten and the thoughts from a few nights ago flooded back into his head.

“Logan?”

Clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment, he smiled slightly at her.  “Can I come in for a minute?”

Confusion marked her forehead as she drew her eyebrows together in puzzlement.  Why was this man who seemingly hated her, standing in her doorway wanting to come in?  “Uh, sure.”  Brenna stepped back into the room and slid her cobalt blue bathrobe off the side of her bed.  “Just give me a minute…” she trailed off as she pointed to the bathroom.

He nodded his head slightly as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. 

Brenna stared after him as she slid into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her.

Logan set the package he had been carrying behind his back in the center of the bed and walked over to the window.  He chuckled softly to himself as he watched the kids playing a game of baseball, helped along at times by the children’s mutant powers.

He turned and glanced at the closed bathroom door and his eyes passed over the package he had brought with him.  He felt bad enough he was responsible for this woman’s death, worse still about laughing at her and, if it was possible, even worse about shattering her sword.  He was going to at least fix the one problem in the equation that wouldn’t cost him anything.

The lock to the bathroom door clicked and she swept into the room as he straightened.  She eyed the package on the bed and was brought to an abrupt halt.  “What’s that?”

“Peace offering,” he whispered.

Brenna could do no more that simply stare at the elongated package lying lengthwise across her bed.  “But why?”

“I fix what I break lady.”

Unable to find her voice, she simply settled on the bed and slid the package into her lap.  Cautiously she peeled the paper back from the white cardboard box and let the brown paper pile at her feet.  She sat for a moment, merely staring at the box, knowing exactly what the contents were, but unwilling to actually see for herself.  How could this ox of a man, this barbarian who laughed at her, do what she thinks he just did? 

Her heart raced furiously as she slipped a finger under the side of the box and lifted it carefully to reveal the contents.  Her heart leapt into her throat and she found herself overcome with emotion.  She gasped out loud before she could stop herself. Water dammed up on the rim of her eyes and a single, fat tear slid slowly down her cheek and dropped silently onto the tissue paper encasing the gift.

Worry gripped Logan’s chest.  “If you don’t like it..”

Brenna raised her face to him and smiled.  “No, no.  I love it.”

“Good, cause I can’t take it back. Specially fired and all.”  He could see the worry still weighing heavily on her face.  “What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, she lowered it back down to look at what lay in her lap.  Sliding a hand into the mass of tissue paper, her hand pulled back lifting the sword from the box. 

The jade lacquered casing reflected her face back at her as she examined the sheath.  Pushing the box out of her lap, she grasped the casing in her other hand and tugged gently on the metal.  The steel slid free with a melody only a sword can make when released from its trapping.  She remembered that song well, and had forgotten how much she missed it, and needed it.

Intricate Celtic knot work wrapped around the hilt of the sword, fitting to her hand perfectly.  The knot work continued down the blade of the sword, lightly etched into the metal.  The silver steel flashed in the dim light in her bedroom and she could see the blade was razor sharp.

“Lethal Beauty.” She whispered.

“Excuse me?”

Unaware she had spoken out loud; she jumped at Logan’s voice.  “I’m sorry, I was talking to myself.”

“What did you say?”

Embarrassed, she quickly ignored his question, posing instead, one of her own.  “Why?”

Logan shrugged and thought about it for a moment.  Seeing the way she had reacted when she saw the sword, he knew he had done the right thing.  “Look, just take it and don’t ask, alright?”

Swallowing carefully, she nodded and slid the blade back into its home.  A small click sounded when the metal fit snugly back into its case.

“You’ll have to let me watch you work with it sometime. Haven’t held a sword in years.”  It wasn’t the truth, but he wasn’t willing to just hand that information to her for some reason. The swordsmith he’d went to had a roomful of his work on display.  He’d noticed the way Logan had eyed the swords and had offered up a spur of the moment sparring session.  At one point Logan had found himself flat on his back. The withered old man had been a worthy opponent and Logan had welcomed the chance to handle a sword again. He had left the workshop with Brenna’s sword tucked under his arm and a promise of a rematch with the old man another day.

Brenna saw him phasing out and worry creased her eyebrows again. She set the sword carefully on the bed as she rose.  “Logan, sit down I have something I need to tell you.”

Perplexed Logan slowly lowered himself in the nearest chair, unsure of what the woman before him wanted to tell him. Seeing the puzzlement in his eyes, she took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

Logan started to rise but stopped at Brenna’s halting gesture.  “What are you talking about?”

Turning her back to him, she struggled to gather her courage.  “You know who I am Logan, but you don’t know what I am. What I’m capable of.”

He couldn’t resist a glance at his hands, knowing the lethal metal that lie beneath his skin. She obviously knew what he was capable of, she couldn’t be much different. “What?”

Deciding to change tactics, she tried again. "Let me ask you a question. Have you ever killed anyone in cold blood?"

He was curious as to why she would ask him that, especially after he had tried to kill her. Deciding to humor her, he answered. "Sure."

She shook her head. "No, I don't think you understand what I mean."

His curiosity grew. "What's there to understand? You asked me if I've ever killed anyone and I said yeah."

Impatience flooded her and she rose from the chair. "No, I asked have you ever killed anyone in cold blood. Just to do it?"

He stood and walked to her, spinning her around to face him.  “Stop it. You’re talking nonsense.”

Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she slowly backed away from him. “Killed someone when it wasn't self-defense, or to protect those around you. Killed someone just because you could and thought you could get away with it?"

He suddenly realized where she was going with this, and wanted to end the conversation then and there. He opened his mouth to change the subject, but abruptly snapped it shut again, sensing she needed to talk. "If there was good reason."

"What if there was no reason at all?"

"There has to be."

She turned her back to him, unable to look at him while she spilled her tale. "I killed someone without a reason. No other explanation other than just because."

"If you expect me to be horrified and think badly of you then you’ve got the wrong person."

"Why not? I was young. Angry. Hurt. I wanted someone else to feel the same pain that I did. Everyone I loved around me was dying, and I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. I had been given this gift…this curse of immortal life, and I couldn't do anything." Her hands balled into fists, her anger with herself growing.

He fought with himself, wanting to hold her in his arms, chase away the pain. But realized that she didn't want him near her.

"I killed a boy because I could Logan. There wasn't any other reason. I lured him with the promise of sex to his death.” She spat out the last word as a wave of sorrow washed over her and she collapsed on the floor, her shoulders heaving as wracking sobs finally overwhelmed her.

No longer willing to just stand by and watch now, he tossed reason and sanity out the window and walked over to her. Lifting her off the ground, he braced her against the wall for support and she buried her face in his chest.

A few minutes later, she realized he had his arms around her, holding her and she pushed against him, freeing herself. Embarrassed, she wiped her cheeks. He could see her embarrassment at the emotional outburst. Rage bubbled within him, and he clamped his hands around her arms. Struggling against him, her blood heated, her tears forgotten. "What in the hell? Get your hands off of me."

"Shut up and listen to me." Stunned at the violence of his words, she quickly snapped her mouth shut, cutting off the words in her throat. "You think I don't know? To watch people you love slip away from you 'cause you've outlived them?" His anger reached the breaking point and overflowed. "You have to let it go dammit. You have to forget. You'll tear yourself apart."

A volcano erupted inside of her. "You think _I_ don't know that?" she hissed out. "After five hundred years you think I haven't figured that out?" The hot flow quickly cooled and sorrow began to wash over her. "It's just so many people in five hundred years Logan. It's wearing on my soul. I don't know if I can take it anymore." Her vision wavered.

Nodding his head in understanding, he lifted a hand to wipe at the tear stains on her cheeks. "I know. Believe me darlin', I know." The pain of loss swam in her eyes.  This was something he understood. Had felt it before. Had hated it just as much as she did.  He still couldn’t explain it but felt the need to take away her pain.  Sliding his hand down her cheek and around behind her neck, he lightly brushed his lips over hers.

She forgot that she was supposed to be appalled he’d made such a move on her. Forgot that she was supposed to hate him for what he’d done to her. To her sword. All manner of reason slipped from her and she heard herself sigh as she pressed her lips against his.  A fiery heat exploded in the pit of her stomach.  She welcomed it, urged the heat to spread uncontrollably. 

 Groaning low in his throat, he pressed her against the wall harder using his hips and slid his hand to wrap around her neck. She parted her lips against his and felt her lungs screaming for air. She denied them.  It had been so long since a man had kissed her like this.  Kissed her as if his very life depended on completing the act. 

He reached down with his free hand and tugged at the belt that held her robe together.  The fabric parted slightly and he hooked a finger on the underside of the fabric, following the split in the gaping cotton. They both groaned as the cool flesh of his finger grazed over her heated flesh.

Heat poured without restraint from her and he soon found himself burning hot.  He gave himself over to it freely knowing he would pay a high price when all was said and done.  He didn’t care. He’d passed that point the second she had willingly responded to him. 

Her robe parted further and she felt the hard ridge of the zipper of his jeans press between her legs. 

_Now._

Need burst viciously in her head and exploded, racking her body with greed.  Right here, right against this very wall she wanted him to take her. Her hatred for him at what he took from her be damned. The sound of stampeding feet running down the hall burst into her head and reality can crashing down around her.

Tearing her mouth from his, she panted, gasping for air. “Stop, please.”

His breath came in short bursts as he struggled to get fresh air.  His blood was still boiling but he didn’t move when she pushed at him with her hands.  Anger immediately rose in his throat and he struggled to contain it. “Why?”

“We can’t do this. I can’t let you get this close.”

Again, anger swirled in this throat, clawing to be set free. “Let me handle my own fucking self.”

“I’m putting you in danger by just being here. Adding sex to the mix would just further complicate things.”

“Goddammit.” The fury that had been building finally popped like a cork, darkening his eyes. She jumped at the violence in his voice with that one word and startled, lifted her hands from his chest.

The room flooded with the rage that now flowed freely from him, shattering the sexually charged mood.  It surprised her, seeing him this upset. She didn’t understand why he reacted the way he did.  Staring at the emotion swirling in his eyes, recognition dawned on her.  Realizing her mistake, she tried to stammer out the words to make it alright again. “I-“ 

A pounding on the door cut her off and the apology froze in her throat.

Logan groaned in frustration and pushed himself away from the wall. She lowered her legs and fought against the give in her knees.   He pushed himself away from her and she watched the anger drain from his body as his eyes clouded once more as he stared at her. Her robe hung open and her ivory skin was laid out bare before him from neck to foot. 

He moved toward her once more but was interrupted by the incessant knocking at the door. Groaning, he halted and spun quickly to face the door.

She watched as he stormed over and flung the oak door open. Jean stared at him openmouthed as she stood in the doorway, hand frozen in mid-air from knocking.

“What?” he growled at her, stopping himself just short of snarling at her.

Nervous at the unknown situation, Jean’s throat constricted and she managed to mumble weakly at him. “Nothing.”

Logan smirked to himself, knowing he had startled her. He would apologize for it later, but right now he just wanted out of the house before he did something he would regret later. Glaring back at Brenna over his shoulder, he could see her still standing against the wall, her robe closed and tied once more.  “We’ll finish this later.”

He turned, glared at Jean and growled softly in his throat so she would hear him.  She squeaked and was barely able to jump out of his way as he stormed past her.

 

******

 

Vivid white lightning flashed behind her eyes and a head shattering roar pulsed through her entire body.  Brenna shot up to a sitting position in the bed, gripping her head in her hands.

 _No, please not now, not here_. She sobbed to herself.

A soft tapping on the windowsill had her whipping her head around to the glass.  The soft patter of rain splashed against the window and the dull rumbling of thunder could be heard in the distance.  Her room filled with a flash of light as lightning sparked far away.

_I’m here for you bitch._

A familiar hissing sounded in her ears and traveled her entire body, growing stronger.

_Are you ready for me, you cunt?_

Shaking her head, Brenna cleared the icy feeling that had spread throughout her body.  Rising slowly from the bed, she slid her hand under the second pillow on the bed and extracted her new sword. 

She smoothed the front of the icy blue knee length gown she was wearing and slipped silently out of her room. The soft whirr of metal whispered in her ears and she quickly threw herself to the floor.  A soft thunk sounded as the metal knife contacted with wood and she quickly snapped back up to a standing position, her sword fully drawn.

“You’ve gotten quicker bitch.  You’ve been studying.” A hollow, methodical voice echoed through the hallway.

“What do you want Alaric?” she cried out into the darkness.

“You.”  The vehemence lying in that single word iced the blood in Brenna’s veins.  “I came to finish what I started.”

A burst of energy knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling across the slick hardwood floor.  Her sword was wrenched from her hand and clattered across the floor to land behind a large plant. Her back contacted sharply with the short wall under the window, and she grunted in pain.

“I should have chopped your head off a long time ago little one.  A mistake I will soon rectify.”  A shadow passed over the wall beside her and she felt a cold hand grip her throat.  She cried out as the hand clamped over her windpipe and began to squeeze. 

She struggled and clawed at the invisible hand as it raised her off the ground. 

Logan slid into the hallway, he eyes widening in surprise when he saw Brenna hanging in mid-air, choking.  “What the-“

Panic vised in her stomach when she saw Logan enter the hallway. _Get out_ , she screamed inside of her head, her breath stolen from her as the hand tightened even further.  Struggling, she managed to capture some air. “Lo-“

“Well, well. What do we have here? A mortal?”  Logan’s eyes narrowed and his adamantium claws sliced through the backs of his hands.  Brenna felt the hand gripping her throat jump slightly as the metal extended from Logan’s hands.  “A mutant.  This could be fun.”

Logan watched in horror was Brenna was jerked forward suddenly and then was tossed back through the plate glass window.  Glass and wood shattered as her body hit and she followed the tumble of debris.

Seconds later, her body slammed into the ground, shattering the delicate bones along her spine.  She cried out and tried to cover her face at the glass and wood rained down on her, but found her arms would not work.  Finally the shower of pieces halted, leaving her bloodied and broken.

“Logan!” Jean screamed as she and Scott rounded the corner and watched as Logan flew across the hallway and smashed into the wood paneling.  Jean and Scott came to a sudden halt, stopped by an invisible force field of some kind.

“Pesky mutants.  Can’t you stay out of anything?” The hollow voice cried out in frustration.  Large potted plants flew across the hall, seemingly by themselves and shattered against the walls.

 _Jean, what is it?_ Scott asked in his mind.

 _I don’t know Scott, I ran a psi-scan but it’s like there isn’t anything there!_ Jean attempted to shrug her shoulders in confusion, but found she couldn’t move.  A loud roaring noise filled the hall, reaching such a fever pitch, the remaining windows shattered.

Suddenly the invisible force released its hold on Jean and Scott and they both crumpled into a heap on the floor, curling up tightly as glass rained down on them.

Finally, the hall fell silent except for the soft patter of rain dripping onto the wood flooring.  Scott cautiously raised his head and tapped Jean on the shoulder when he saw whatever it was, was gone.

Raising her head, she saw Logan lying a few feet from her, his chest slowly rising and falling as if he were simply asleep.  A small spot of blood lay dried on his forehead, the cut having healed itself already.

“Logan?” Scott rose and kneeled down beside him, setting a hand gently on the other man’s shoulder.

Logan’s senses came screaming back to him and he flew up into a standing position, startling Scott.  “Where is she?”

“Logan, what are you talking about? Who?”

Sniffing the air, Logan turned and stalked over to the shattered windows. “Brenna.” Was all he said as he stepped up to stand on the window casing and simply stepped out into mid-air.

Jean and Scott stared at each other in shock.  “What the hell is he doing?” Jean cried out to Scott as she carefully picked her way through the shattered glass to the window.

A loud thud vibrated the ground beside Brenna and she opened her eyes to see Logan standing over her looking down at her, worry creasing his face.  She closed her eyes against the stinging rain and groaned softly.

Her arms finally decided to cooperate with the rest of her body, and she was able to prop herself up on her elbows.

“How ya doin’?” Logan asked as he dropped to a crouching position and sniffed the air.

“Peachy.”

“Good, cause we’ve got company.”

Brenna started to say something, but Logan jumped up and disappeared into the trees. She managed to raise herself to a crouching position and stopped to take a few deep breaths.  Luckily she’d healed already and she could manage to tuck away the last of the remaining pain for now.

Hauling herself up to a standing position, she heard a loud whistle from somewhere above her. Peering up into the darkness, she flinched several times as raindrops fell into her eyes.  Suddenly a blurry shape came into her vision, and she stretched out her hand and neatly caught her sword.

“Thanks!” she called up to whoever it was that dropped the sword to her and disappeared into the trees herself.  She was puzzled by Logan’s statement that someone was there.  The soft roaring in her head had disappeared, so she knew Alaric was gone.  And no other immortals were on the grounds that she could sense.

Lighting flashed overhead, lighting her way as a clap of thunder sounded in the silence.  She stepped gingerly over tree roots and broken branches, mindful of her bare feet. A branch cracking behind her halted her progress and she slowly turned, sword held in front of her, ready to strike.

She squinted into the darkness and could just make out Logan’s form stalking through the brush towards her.  A small figure behind him caught her attention and she lunged forward.

Logan stopped mid-stride and stared at Brenna as she dove forward towards him. “Move!” she screamed and he was able to scramble out of the way just in time.  The sword pierced through the heart of the small figure that had been stalking him and dropped quickly to the ground.

“What the hell was that?” he asked as he came to stand next to her, staring down at the small figure.

“A lackey.” She mumbled as she yanked her sword back out of the figure.  A small puddle of blood welled up from the wound and slid down his chest.

“For who?”

“Merris.” Turning, she moved to storm off into the trees.  “C’mon, I’ll explain it later, where there’s one, ten more will certainly show up.”

Logan and Brenna stepped out of the trees into an open field and were instantly surrounded by a circle of undersized men.  “What the hell are these things again?”

“Indelics. They’re Alaric Merris’s lackeys.  They do his dirty work when he doesn’t feel like it.”  Pressing her back against Logan’s, Brenna held her sword erect and waited for one of the indelics to make their first move.

Logan sniffed the air around him, Brenna’s scent overpowering him from behind.  “I can’t smell them.” He said as his claws popped through his skin and slid into place.

“Of course not, they’re already dead.”

“Then why did I smell something earlier?”

“I’m not sure.”  One of the lackeys stepped forward and held out a hand towards Brenna. Realization washed over her and she shouted over her shoulder to Logan.  “They use magic too, so watch out.”

He shook off the small man that was pierced onto his claws and rolled his eyes. “Great, now she tells me.”

The sword in Brenna’s hands flashed and the indelic before her was soon headless.  Three more stepped up before her, hands held out.  Their heads soon followed the first’s.

Hank, Jean and Scott stepped out into the vast yard and watched the melee taking place before them.

“Think they need any help?” Scott questioned, his hand automatically rising to rest lightly on the side of his visor.

Jean watched the display of flashing metal before her and merely smiled as she shook her head. “No, looks like they have it handled.”

Brenna’s sword dipped and spun with a controlled skill that had taken years of practice.  The site was breathtaking.  Logan jabbed and punched at the enemies, his technique rougher, but effective just the same.

A tremor of energy ran through Brenna and she turn to see Logan standing before the last of the small men.

Logan moved to stab his claws through him, but she grabbed his arm and halted his movements before he could make contact. Puzzled he turned his head and raised an eyebrow in question to her.

“This one’s mine.”

“Why?” he grumbled out, upset that his fun had been ruined.

“Because he’s not one of them, he’s Alaric’s seeker, and he’s immortal.”  The sword suddenly flashed out of nowhere and Brenna neatly blocked the sharp blade.  The small figure shifted and grew into a normal sized man.

“Not much of an improvement, Simon.” Brenna smirked.  “Three hundred years haven’t changed your looks, except for making them worse.” Simon freed his sword and spun it around in preparation for a strike.

“I see time hasn’t changed you either Brenna. Still a bitch I see.” Simon’s sword flashed out and clanged against Brenna’s at her counter.

The two fighters backed up and began circling each other.  Their eyes were locked solidly on each others, each trying to anticipate the other’s moves.

“Alaric sent you again to do his dirty work?” Brenna shook her head from side to side in disdain.  “Tsk, tsk.”

“Shut up.” Simon hissed out.

A wicked smile spread over Brenna’s face.  “I see you have Alaric’s grasp of the English language down. He never was much of a conversationalist.”

Simon lifted his sword high above his head, the evil glint vivid in his gray eyes. “You won’t be making those smartass comments after I take your head, girl.”

Brenna gave a mock shudder, her eyes wide in contempt. “I see you also have Alaric’s originality.  Always a bridesmaid and never a bride, huh Simon?” Simon’s eyes sparked brightly with hate and Brenna knew she had struck a nerve.  “Can’t control your own goons so you ride on Alaric’s coattails.”

A loud scream emitted from Simon’s mouth and he suddenly surged forward towards Brenna. She smiled with the knowledge that she had gotten to him and he had let his emotions overtake his teachings.

She merely braced herself and held her sword at chest level.  As Simon came towards her, his eyes red with rage, she thrust the blade forward and felt the sickening give of his skin.

“Find a weakness, exploit it.” She whispered to Simon, as his face contorted in the horrid realization that she was right.  “That should have been Alaric’s first lesson to you.” She thrust her sword further forward and buried it to the hilt in his chest.  “I see he failed, again.”

With a loud yell, Brenna yanked her sword back out of Simon’s chest and watched as he fell to his knees.

Simon’s eyes silently pleaded to her, his face rich with pain.  He was done, tired of being’s Alaric’s right hand, and he knew he could end it here.  “I tried to keep him away….he found you…I’m sorry.” 

Brenna’s mouth opened slightly in shock. “You kept him away for four hundred years?”

Air wheezed from Simon’s lungs as he struggled to breath.  “Yes…he never would have left you alone…”

He had protected her. 

“I need….please.” He pleaded with her, his face overwhelmed with agony.  With a small nod, Brenna understood his pain and honored his request.

His eyes brightened slightly.  “I still lo-“ his voice cut off sharply as the blood pounding through his heart stopped.

Grasping her sword to the side with both hands, she sliced the blade quickly through the air.  She released her left hand from the blade and finished the arc with just her right hand, holding her hands straight out to the side, forming a ‘t’.

Simon’s head slipped slowly off his shoulders and dropped with a hard thunk onto the ground, his body quickly following.  Spying the group start to run towards her as his body hit the ground, she screamed at them to stop.

Lightning flashed out of the sky and struck the headless body lying at her feet.

“Brenna!” Logan called out, mystified as to what was happening. He moved towards her but was brought up short by Hank’s massive hand.

“Logan wait. Look.”

They all watched in concerned fascination as energy bursts played over the body of Simon MacReanne.  The body slowly rose into the air, the flashes of light arcing over his body faster now.

Lightning flashed overhead and twin bolts of white fire struck the ground on either side of Brenna.  She screamed and dropped her sword, the energy from Simon’s body arching over to hers now.  Pure energy flowed up her legs, setting them on fire.  A single bolt of lightning speared down from overhead and struck her in the center of her chest.

A high pitched wail forced the onlookers to clamp their hands over their ears in protection.  They all watched as Brenna arched herself backward and screamed up in to the sky.

Lightning flashed overhead again, and Brenna’s feet slowly lifted off the ground, raising her a few feet from the grass.  Energy bursts emitted faster now from Simon’s body, arching over into Brenna, transferring six hundred years of power and knowledge.

Brenna screamed again as lightning struck her chest.  Jean’s hands dropped from her ears and she blinked her eyes carefully to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

Brenna’s form was disappearing and reappearing every few seconds, replaced each time with a large form of energy.  Glass shattered behind them and everyone ducked for cover as glass rained down on them.  The only one that remained standing was Jean, her eyes locked on Brenna.

A scream split the air again as the last of Simon’s energy transferred to Brenna and the sky suddenly exploded with lightning. Just as suddenly the world went black and Brenna dropped to the ground.

Jean slowly made her way over to the still body lying on the ground as the rest of the group pulled themselves to their feet.  She gingerly kneeled beside the inert form and slid her hand gently onto her shoulder.

“Brenna?”

A soft moan emanated from the motionless form and Brenna shifted slightly and groaned in pain.

“She okay Jeannie?” Logan asked and Jean lifted her head, noting the concern in his face.  She quickly covered her surprise when she saw he was genuinely worried for this girl and remembered the way he had dropped out of the window after her, concerned only with Brenna’s well-being.  “I think so.” Jean reassured him.

“I’m fine.” A muffled reply came and Brenna lifted her head to look up at the X-Men.  “Nothing a hot shower won’t take care of.” She feigned a smile and slowly rose to a sitting position.  Her head swam with nausea and her mouth tasted like cotton, otherwise, she thought to herself as she took stock, everything seemed to be in working order.

“May I inquire, Brenna, as to what exactly happened?” Hank asked, scratching his head in puzzlement.  In all his readings, he had never seen such a sight.

“Quickening.”

“Pardon?”

Brenna pushed herself carefully to her feet and brushed a few twigs from the front of her nightgown.  She coughed a few times and cleared her throat.  “What you just saw, was a Quickening.  When one immortal kills another by beheading them, their energy force is transferred to the other immortal.  It’s a bit painful the first few times, but I’ve never quite gotten used to it.”

“Do you need some help?” Scott asked, seeing Jean’s concern on her face.

Brenna smiled meekly.  “Actually I could, I haven’t killed another immortal in a while and I’ve forgotten how draining a Quickening can be, especially if the other immortal was powerful.  Simon had apparently gained some strength since I last saw him.”

Logan and Scott helped Brenna make her way into the house.  Hank stayed and studied the body of the other immortal.

“Fascinating.” He said as he studied the beheaded man.  Jean watched him silently and bit her lip in confusion.  Had it been her imagination? Was she merely seeing things?  Finally, her own curiosity got the better of her and she knelt down next to Hank. 

“Hank?”

“Yes Jean?”

“Did you see…anything unusual?”

Hank cocked an eyebrow at the redhead and studied her carefully.  “I think what we just witnessed certainly classifies as unusual.”

“No, no, I meant…never mind.” She dismissed her words with a wave of her hand.

“Jean?”  His brow furrowed in bewilderment as he watched Jean battle with herself.  “What did you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Jean.” He said more forcefully this time.

Sighing, Jean clutched her arms over her chest.  “Well, I thought I saw something but I can’t be sure.” Jean carefully explained what she thought she saw, leaving out no details.

“Curious.” Hank slid his thumb thoughtfully over his chin. “Most curious.”

It was Jean’s turn to be skeptical. “Hank?”

Titling his head towards the sky, Hank stared at the now crystal clear sky, its darkness pierced with stars shining brightly down on them.

“Hank, what is it?”

“You said you saw Brenna disappear and reappear several time during The Quickening? Her form being replaced by a large black bird of pure energy?”

Jean nodded her head in acknowledgement and patiently waited for Hank to finish his musings.

“Definitely curious.’

Groaning in frustration, Jean could no longer contain her politeness.  “Hank!”

Startled, Hank jerked slightly.  “Forgive me Jean, but this is most fascinating.  I’ve never quite run across anything like this and am looking fow-“

“HANK!” Jean screamed out at him, cutting off his usual speech.  “What is it?”

“Again, I apologize.” Jean simply nodded her head in agreement and began tapping her foot impatiently.  “Brenna’s an Irish name, and in Gaelic, Brenna means raven.”

 

******

 

Brenna splashed ice cold water over her face and lifted her head to stare at herself in the mirror.  Her face reflected back at her, her skin unmarred and just as perfect as it had been at twenty-seven. 

Her eyes told another story. 

On the surface they were a clear emerald green, with small flecks of gold and black interlaced around the pupil. 

But Brenna knew better.

Under that exterior laid the soul of a five-hundred year old.  A soul growing weary with her life.  She was tired of playing The Game.  She knew she could take herself out of The Game, and live a life in solitude by living on consecrated, or holy ground.

Such as the law of all immortals, no fighting or killing could take place on holy ground.  It could be done, she knew that. She had heard of another immortal, Duncan MacLeod, who had lived on holy ground after the death of his beloved at the hands of another immortal.  But he had eventually left the grounds and returned to The Game.

Was the sacrifice worth it?

Was her sanity worth it?

Could she face going through the rest of her immortal life by herself? 

She dragged a soft dry towel over her face and dropped if casually into the clothes basket.  A soft knock on her door stopped her from climbing into bed, and she groaned softly to herself, wanting only to sleep and rid herself of the events of the night before.

Professor Xavier’s face beamed brightly back at her as she peeked her head around the door.

“Good evening Brenna or rather Good morning, considering the time.”

She nodded her head and pushed back the door to allow him entry.  “Mornin’.”  She closed the door silently behind him, and made her way carefully to the bed.

“I heard there were some activities earlier that you and several of my team ran into.  Are you okay?”  Concern was etched into his forehead.

“Yes, of course.  I’m just sorry that my problems have been thrown into everyone’s lives here.  I didn’t come here to create any trouble.”

“Of course not, I know that and everyone else here knows that as well.”  He guided his wheelchair carefully over to the bed and settled a hand on top of hers. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Scott and Jean weren’t very forthcoming with an explanation but I believe it was because they didn’t understand everything themselves.”

Brenna shook her head.  “No, I don’t mind.”

“Who was that man you killed?” The Professor settled himself a bit more comfortably in to his chair and folded his hands together on his lap.

“His name is – was – Simon MacReanne, he was two hundred years old when I met him for the first time.  A young one by immortal standards, but someone I looked up to and admired none the less.  And three hundred years ago, I married him.”

 

_Soft candlelight cast long shadows on the walls of the rugged tent where Simon and Brenna lay locked in each other’s embrace, their skin slicked with sweat from their recent lovemaking.  Pride and happiness pounded against Brenna’s chest and she thought her heart would burst from it._

_This was her husband.  Never in her hundred and twenty-seven years did she think she would be able to say that._

_Husband._

_A chill ran up her arms at the thought._

_She had always figured her immortality would keep her from leading any semblance of a normal life.  Keep her walking through her life alone.  But she had found Simon, and he was an immortal._

_She sighed and smiled, shifting so her naked body lay closer to his.  They were bound to each other now, for the rest of their immortal lives._

_Simon brushed back her short bangs with his hand, and lightly grazed his lips over her forehead.  “What are you thinking, my love?”_

_She smiled and lifted her face to his.  “About how I would rather be no where else in this world right now.”  She pressed her lips against his and sighed contentedly when he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to lie on top of him.  They moved slowly together, neither one of their hungers as yet sated, but their bodies reeling with exhaustion._

_They stilled sometime later and drifted off to sleep as they lie.  Chests pressed tightly to each other, their hearts beating in the same satisfied rhythm._

Something’s wrong _, she told herself as the morning sunlight blazed on the backs of her eyelids. She slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the radiance of the sun.  Confusion spread over her as she realized her arms lay against the pillow above her, bound to the old oak posts that served as a headboard. She struggled against her bindings but found that it only served to tighten the restraints._

_Panic fluttered in her stomach as she heard soft mumbling outside of the tent.  She struggled to make out the words spoken and who the owners of the voices where, but to her frustration, couldn’t._

_She realized suddenly that she was alone, Simon was nowhere to be seen.  Had they gotten him too and taken him already? Sighing, she closed her eyes._ This cannot be happening to us _, she whispered softly to the empty room._

_The door flap to the tent was pulled back and she heard the rustling of someone entering the tent and pulling the flap immediately behind them._

_“Who are you, what do you want?” Brenna hissed out between clench teeth to the unseen assailant._

_“Your head, my dear.”  A venomous voice hissed out.  And Brenna cried out in shock._

Alaric?

_Panic clenched around her throat.  “Where’s Simon?”  She fought to keep the tears from her voice._

_Alaric’s cackling laughter filled the tent.  “He’s in good hands my dear, don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours.”  The bed shifted slightly and Brenna fought to keep herself from moving away from his form.  He slid a single finger down her cheek and she winced slightly as his touch, revolted at the chill that lay on his skin._

_She shifted and to her surprise, realized that Alaric had made a crucial mistake, he had left her feet unbound.  His finger slid down to her neck and he scored a light line with his fingernail across her delicate skin.  “Had I known you were an immortal much like myself, I would have taken your head.”  He lowered his head so his lips barely brushed her ear.  “After I raped you.” He hissed._

_Brenna fought the vomit rising in her throat and struggled to contain her first instinct to spit in Alaric’s face.  She decided now was as good a time as any, and swung her feet up to plant firmly in his face, pushing him away with all the force she could muster._

_She forced her legs to continue over her head, and flipped herself over to a kneeling position, her hands still bound to the bed between her legs.  The sharp sound of swords being drawn filled the air, and she shifted so her hands were now beside her._

_One of Alaric’s guards blindly rushed forward towards her, and she stepped carefully to the side, pulling the leather binding her hands to the wood tight.  The clumsy guard’s sword sliced through the thin bands, freeing her hands.  He stared after her in surprise and she quickly shot out a leg to level him to the ground._

_Alaric roared loudly from a few feet away, his hand clutched over his face as blood spurted from his broken nose.  “Get her you imbeciles!” He screamed._

_A wall of guards pressed towards her and she looked frantically around the room for an escape.  Spying a large support directly above her, she sprang up, clutching her hands around the rough wood and lifted her legs so the guards shot past her._

_The massive bodies of the guards were unable to stop in time and barreled through the flimsy wall of the tent.  The support shook in her hand and snapped from the weight of the guards._

_The tent collapsed around her and she landed heavily on the ground.  Brenna batted furiously at the canvas fabric looking for an edge to escape under before realizing she still held the guard’s weighty sword in her hand._

_“Guards, grab her.” Came a muffled cry from under the tent and a clammy hand clamped over her ankle.  She quickly sliced through the fabric and jammed the sword down into the wrist of the hand holding her ankle._

_A howling scream split the air and the hand released its hold on her ankle.  She fought her way over the pile of bodies writhing under the collapsed tent.  As soon as her feet hit solid ground, she ran for her life._

_Tree branches and undergrowth scratched at her bare skin and she held up a hand to protect her eyes as she surged forward.  A wolf howl split the day, causing her to quicken her pace._

_A familiar wave washed over her and she stopped abruptly, snapping her head to the left.  Simon stood leaning against a tree, his clothing torn and bloodied._

_With a joyous cry, Brenna leapt at him, her arms clamping around his neck as she hugged him fiercely. “I’m so glad to see you.”  She pressed her lips to his and her eyes flew open in surprise when he didn’t respond to her kiss._

_“Simon?” She questioned, her arms dropping from his shoulders to hang heavily by her side._

_“I’m sorry.” He whispered and raised his sword so it sat lightly on her shoulders.  Brenna stared back at him in confusion.  “What are you talking about?  What’s wrong Simon?”_

_“He…he said it would be easy.”_

_“What? Who?”  Brenna stammered out, confused._

_“That you wouldn’t fight back, that you wanted out.”_

_“Wanted out? Of what?” She panicked when she heard voices screaming and calling off in the distance.  “Simon, let’s go, please.”_

_Simon stayed where he was, and stared off into the distance.  “I can’t. Dammit to hell I can’t.” The sword slipped from her shoulder and clattered to the ground, the green underbrush enveloping the metal._

_Understanding bloomed in Brenna’s head and she stepped back slowly from where her husband stood.  Hot tears welled up behind her eyes and flowed freely before she could stop them.  “No.” she whispered, shaking her head back and forth slowly._

_Alaric had gotten to him._

_Rage quickly fired inside of her, and she wiped furiously at the streaks of water on her cheeks. Fishing the sword from the underbrush, she lifted it to his neck. Anger surged through her and she narrowed her eyes at him.  “What did he offer you?”_

_“Power.” Simon whispered softly, the word barely audible to her ears._

_“You betrayed your wife for power?” She hissed the words out, a red haze filming over her eyes. What was once love for this man was now an overwhelming disgust._

_A chorus of loud shouts echoed over her shoulder and she could hear what sounded like an army of feet herding towards them. She swore vehemently._

_“He’ll find you wherever you go.  He wants to finish what he once started.” A cruel coldness swam in Simon’s blue eyes and the man she had once loved vanished from her mind, replaced instead with this horrible creature bent on selfishness.  “I was trying to help you.”_

_“You were trying to help yourself.”  She slid the sword along his neck, the blade biting slightly through the skin, causing a small red line of blood to well up on the metal.  “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.”_

_Simon raised his chin and pressed his neck against the blade.  “Go ahead bitch, he’ll still find you.”_

_Brenna braced her hand on the hilt and prepared to slice off Simon’s head. Her mind forced her arm to move, her heart kept her from following through.  She sighed and lowered the blade, and swore at herself.  After this man had just betrayed her to the man she despised, she still couldn’t kill him._

_She couldn’t understand why._

_“You live for today. Next time we meet, you won’t be so lucky.” She said softly before turning and vanishing into the woods._

 

Brenna passed her hand over her damp cheek and forced a small smile for the Professor.  “I’ve lived with four hundred years of guilt of why I couldn’t kill him after he betrayed me.  Tonight, I realized why.  He did it to protect me; he’s spent the past four hundred years keeping Alaric away from me.”  Brenna shook her head slightly.  “I knew…somewhere inside of me I knew.”

“Your heart couldn’t believe what your head was telling you.” 

“I should have trusted him more.” Brenna sighed, and despite her immortality, Charles could see the weight hanging heavily on her face.  The four hundred year old grudge was gone, a resolution found.

“You only did what you could.  His protection was over, and he knew it.  He only knew he could be free from Alaric by dying, you brought him that.”

Brenna nodded her head in agreement and dropped her head onto the pillow, her exhaustion overwhelming her. 

_Sleep._

The single thought drifted in her mind, and she instantly obeyed.

Charles watched at she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep and silently slipped from the room.

 

******

 

Jean stood outside of Logan’s bedroom door and chewed on her lip, contemplating whether or not to actually have this conversation with him.  It really wasn’t any of her business if she thought about it.  But something was gnawing desperately in her gut and wouldn’t let go.

 _I shouldn’t be here_. She finally determined to herself and turned to go.

She stopped abruptly when she heard the door behind her creak open.  “Jeannie?” Logan’s rough voice whispered, still heavy with sleep.

Feigning her best smile, she turned and saw him standing in the doorway, eyes shadowed with sleep and wearing only a simple pair of black boxers.  He ran a hand through his tousled hair and scratched his neck, trying to work loose the knot at the base of his skull.  It was one of those rare nights where he was actually getting some sleep, mostly due to the events that occurred earlier.

“Everythin’ okay?”  He yawned hugely and Jean chuckled softly, a real smile spreading over her face this time.

“Everything’s fine Logan.”  She hesitated, wanting to say more, but holding herself back.

He heard the underlying, unspoken words in her ‘everything’s fine’ and shook his head.  “Then what are ya doing standin’ outside my door for at four a.m.?”

“Oh! I uh…I was just passing by.”

Logan dropped his hand to his side and sighed.  “Jeannie, you’ve been out here for ten minutes.  I don’t call that ‘just passin’ by’.” Stepping back into his room, he pushed open the door to allow her entry and sat back down on the bed.

Jean closed the door behind her, not wanting their conversation broadcast throughout the mansion.  She nervously wrung her hands together and seriously contemplated running from the room and faking sleepwalking.

Rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes, Logan sighed again.  “You’re goin’ to drive me crazy you keep that nervous shit up.”

Jean felt her face grow hot with embarrassment and dropped her hands to her side.  “Sorry.” She mumbled. “I…uh…”

“You and Cyke have a fight?”  Logan raised an eyebrow and eyed her skeptically.

“Oh, uh, no…no…everything with Scott’s fine, I think.”

“You think?”

“No! No. It’s fine, sorry.” She stumbled over the words. Her voice thick in her throat and seemingly foreign to her.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Jean exhaled slowly and gathered her courage.  “You’re in love with Brenna.”

“Christ Jean, you wake me up on one of the few night’s I’m gettin’ some sleep with this shit.” 

Taken aback, Jean stepped back a few paces.  “I’m…I’m…so-sorry. I shouldn’t have –“

“Sit down.”

Shaking her head Jean refused. “No, I’m sorry Logan, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Rising from the bed, Logan stepped over to Jean and wrapped a hand roughly around her arm.  “Sit down.” He said again, repeating his words with more force.  “Don’t make me force you to sit down, Jean.  It won’t be pretty.”

Guiltily, she plopped down on the bed and dropped her head into her hands. “I’m –“

Cutting her off Logan sat down on the bed next to her.  “I know what you’re doin’ Jean, you’re looking out after a friend. But I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He was flat out lying to her, something he’d only done to her once before.

Lifting her head from her hands, she turned so she was facing him.  “I can see it Logan.  I can see the way you look at her.  I saw the way you flipped out when you couldn’t find her earlier.”

Setting his jaw firmly, Logan sighed.  “I was just trying to help a friend.”

Jean slid her hand onto his forearm and let out a long sigh herself.  “No Logan.  You were worried.  You care about her Logan, a lot.  I’ve only seen you look like that a few other times since I’ve known you.”

"Lovin' ain't that easy for me Jeannie."

“I know.”  His silence filled the room, and she continued on.  “Maybe it’s time.”

Logan rubbed his free hand over his face, a look of worry crossing it.  “After Mariko died, I gave up.”  He left unsaid the feeling he still held for Jean. Didn’t mention that letting her go, watching her marry Scott had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life.  It still tore at him occasionally when he thought about how he hadn’t fought for her.

Jean nodded her head, catching the trailing edges of his thoughts. “I know, and I’m sorry.”  She let the response cover his thoughts, both spoken and unspoken.

A pressing silence enveloped the room and Logan sighed heavily as Jean’s words spun helplessly in his head.  She was right. He knew it, but couldn’t bring himself to actually admit to what he felt for Brenna. Unexpectedly a wave of rare emotion washed over him. “How’d you get so smart?

A slow smile spread across her face.  “Practice makes perfect you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled softly and she slid her hand up to lay it gently on his cheek. He laid his hand over hers.  “I’m going to screw it up, you know that too right?”

Jean smiled brightly and leaned forward, brushing her lips across his.  “You’ve always come out on top Logan, this shouldn’t be any different.”  Rising she trailed her hand softly across his cheek and felt his hand drop from hers.  She left the room, all the words spoken that needed to be said.

A tiny twinge of jealousy did a lazy slide around her stomach, and she pushed it back down, masking it over.  She had always harbored thoughts about Logan, ran ‘what if’ situations through her head.  Would things have worked out differently for her and Logan if she hadn’t married Scott? 

 _You made your choice_ , she reminded herself fiercely. 

They both had. 

She couldn’t turn back the clock to do things differently. 

What bothered her the most was she actually liked Brenna.  And she didn’t want Logan to have to face what she watched him go through after Mariko’s death, again.

“So help me God,” she whispered into the hallway, “if you hurt him Brenna, I’ll chop off your head myself.”

 

*******

 

Lights flashed on the foliage of the trees around her as the sword slid through the air.  Mindlessly she danced along with the sword, letting her new friend guide her.

That was how Logan found her, two dancers hypnotized with each other.  Her eyes round and hazed over, focused only on the metal she guided skillfully through its paces.  It was as if the sword had been a part of her for her entire life, not just new-found friends.

He leaned up against the aging oak tree in the center of yard and crossed his arms, becoming lost in thought himself.  He had spent the past few days wrestling with himself again. The same argument grew tiresome, but he found he returned to it day after day.

Jean had been right.

The woman before him slowed and brought her hands in a slow arc to rest over her heart, settling the blade of the sword to her forehead.  She whispered something inaudible to him, and nodded her head towards the sun.

Panting lightly, she lowered the blade and slid it carefully into the polished case. She remained where she was, contemplating whether to acknowledge Logan’s presence or not.

 _Let him suffer_ , she said to herself as she smirked and stalked off towards the mansion.

Logan pushed himself away from the tree and reached her just before she disappeared into the house. His hand closed around her elbow, pulling her back to him. 

Brenna jumped as a jolt speared through her as his skin slid smoothly across hers, her stomach clenching from the electricity.  Thoughts swirled in her head, voices screamed out at her, telling her to get away.  She knew she couldn’t let him get to her again. 

Other than the night of her Quickening, she had been purposefully avoiding him since he had given her the sword and had then pinned her to the wall. 

Knowing that in order to protect herself and her heart, she would have to keep up the wall she had built.  She had fought desperately to build that wall and didn’t want to see it smashed.

Spinning, she ripped her arm from his grip. “Hands off.”  She hissed through clenched teeth.

Ego got the best of him and he took her vehemence as a challenge.  Smirking, he reached up and drew his hand through her hair.  Wrapping his hand around the base of her skull, he clenched his hand around a handful of her hair.  Jerking her towards him, he forced her to look at him. “Problem?’

She struggled against him, trying to force her hands between their bodies.  Annoyance flooded her when she was unable to gain enough leverage to pull him away. Sighing, she dropped her hands. “Yeah, you piss me off.”

Amusement flashed in his eyes. “I piss a lot of people off.”

Shaking her head furiously, she tried to shake his hand loose.  His eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip.  She winced slightly as she felt him restrain her neck to prevent her from escaping, and sighed, exasperated. “So what makes me so special that you have to constantly annoy me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “’Cause it’s so much fun.”

Her annoyance grew. She reached up and slid her hand over his, and pressed lightly over a pressure point in his wrist.

He released his hand with a sharp intake of breath. “Shit.”

She released his hand and dropped it like a hot coal.  Regret instantly replaced her anger. “Sorry.”

He alternated between clenching and unclenching his hand, hoping to stimulate blood flow back to the area.  “What the hell?”

Maybe she had pressed too hard. “The numbness will fade in a few.”

Scowling at his hand, he dropped it to his side.  “Sure. Great. But what the hell was it for?”

Seeing his anger bubbling again, she moved to take a few steps back from him.

“Dammit Brenna, don’t back away from me.” She halted her steps, her heartbeat racing in her ears. Her breathing increasing when she realized where the conversation was going. “Why is it whenever I come near you, you turn the other way?”

Panic clutched around her heart. There was no way she was going to say this without hurting him.  “I’m afraid of you.”

Stunned he took a step back this time. “What?”

Grasping his arm, she hoped it was reassuring.  “I’m afraid of what you could do to me.”

“What? Why?”

Her breathing quickened when she realized she had walked herself into the corner she had been trying to avoid.  Struggling to calm her speeding heart, she sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. “All.” Closing her eyes to the storm raging in and around her. “Or nothing.” She whispered, slowly raising her head to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to deal with this now.”

His eyes darkened, his temper flaring just under the edge of control.  A hurricane churning over a raging sea.  “What are you worried about?”

Weariness crept into her eyes. “I can’t risk…” She trailed off, not wanting to say the words out loud.

“Risk what?”

“You.”

The hurricane inside him continued to rage, the tension becoming unbearable. “Why can’t you worry about yourself for once and not everyone else?”

She shook her head. “I can’t.  Simon the other day was just a show. Alaric’s out for blood Logan and he’s not going to stop until he has mine on his hands.” Running her own hands through her hair, she sighed, frustrated. “I’m putting everyone at risk each day that I stay here. It was a mistake to come here in the first place.” She fought the tears that she felt forming behind her eyes, desperate to not let them fall. “I…I need to leave.”

The storm calmed, the seas stilled. Panic vised around his stomach. Suddenly deciding that he wasn’t going to let another woman that he cared for slip through his fingers, he reached up and gripped her arms. “Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s going to find you wherever you go. He found you here, what makes you think he’s not going to again, if you leave?”

Heat flashed and she was unable to hide it. “Butt out Logan. Let me worry about my own problems.”

“Why are you turning your back on me when I’m offering help? Why can’t you accept that you need the help in the first place?”  Why couldn’t she see that she was walking right into Alaric’s hands if she left? He knew she was smarter than this and it was infuriating him that she failed to see the obvious.

“Because I’ve done fine on my own for the past five hundred years. Tell me, please. What makes this time any different?”

He dropped his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “Me.”

She moved before she could change her mind.  Her mouth clamped down over his as their bodies crashed together.

Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled him even closer to her.  Her body pulsing against his as the kiss grew rough. Frustration raced through them both and shifted fluidly to violence when he pushed her against the door. Her head cracked against the paneling of the door, but she ignored the explosion of stars behind her eyelids. Identical images of him taking her right here in the yard, rapidly and proficiently, flickered through both of their heads. 

She tore her mouth from his, gasping to get air into her taxed lungs. “This is wrong. We’ll regret it later.”

“Not the way I do it.” Promise flashed in his darkening eyes.

“I’m serious.” She said, scowling at him. He said nothing, simply kept staring at her while the imagery of just exactly what he wanted to do to her exploded in his head. He knew his intent showed clearly on his face, but he made no effort to hide it. With fascination, he watched as the scowl slowly vanished off her face and was replaced with shock when she realized he was just as serious. 

Desire pierced her, spearing between her legs and caused her to cry out in surprise. She quickly recovered, blanking her face of emotion. Unable to find another viable excuse, she repeated herself. “We’ll regret it.”

It was too late; he saw it before she was able to rid her face, and eyes, of the excitement. “Regret is such a useless emotion, don’t you think? However, regret is most handy when experienced together.” He slid his hands back up around her neck, and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “But not here. Not where we could be interrupted.” Her knees liquefied.

He stepped back and grabbed her hand, surprising her. “Come on.” Her sword clattered to the stone walkway, forgotten as she struggled to keep up with him as he half dragged; half carried her to the garage. When they reached the garage; he dropped her hand and walked over to mount Scott’s motorcycle. At the flip of a switch, the motorcycle roared to life.

“Get on.”

Nervousness pounded into her head mixing with the adrenaline as it increased in her body.  “I’ve never….” Her words ground to a halt as he cut his eyes back to her. Flipping up the kickstand up, he moved to speed off without her. It was everything, or nothing.

Panic iced the blood in her veins. She screamed over the din of the engine. “Wait!”

She barely had swung her leg over the padded leather seat when the motorcycle jerked forward. Grappling quickly for Logan’s waist, she quickly laced her fingers together in front of him.

She felt her stomach flip over as he leaned the bike to the left and the sound of tires squealing filled her hearing. The bike straightened out again and Logan picked up speed as they reached the open road.

She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped her hands tighter.  Feeling his back vibrate against her chest, she realized she was saying something to her. “What?” She screamed, trying to make sure her voice was heard over the engine.

“Relax!”

Realizing she was cutting off his air supply with her hands, she relaxed her grip slightly. She cried out as Logan twisted his wrist slightly and the motorcycle shot forward, gaining more speed.

The scenery blurred by and she quickly lost track of which direction they were going in. Relaxing even more she began to actually enjoy the wind whipping around her. Her trust in Logan’s skill with the bike grew as they sped on and she eventually released his waist.

He shifted the bike to pass a slower car and she raised her arms in the air, reveling in the speed. He smiled when she cried out in excitement, finally relaxing and enjoying herself for the first time since she arrived. He slowed and turned the bike off the main road onto a gravel road.

Looking around at the trees, she was unfamiliar with where they were. But since she really hadn’t been anywhere other than the school for the past month, and hadn’t bothered to venture out anywhere, being unfamiliar wasn’t unheard of. Still she was wary. “Are we lost?”

Silence spread out around them as Logan cut off the engine and glided the bike off the road stopping on a dirt path. Saying nothing, he stood and helped her off the bike. Leaving her standing in the middle of the path, he pushed the bike into a patch of bushes, obscuring the bike from view.

Coming back to stand next to her, he slid his hand into hers. “No, we’re right where we should be.” Jerking his head at a line of trees, he tugged on her hand. “C’mon.”

He moved quickly and she was nearly out of breath when they broke through the trees. Her eyes bulged as she stared out at the shimmering water that lay before her. A dark shape in the distance caught her eye and she squinted trying to determine the shape.

Confusion filled her head as she realized she recognized the building. “That’s the school!” Logan simply nodded. “Couldn’t we just have walked over here?”

He smiled. “Sure.” Pulling her towards him, her face stopped inches from his. “But it wouldn’t have been as much fun.” He fastened his mouth over hers, sending shockwaves screaming through her system.

His blood quickly heated and he drove to alleviate the need that stewed within him.  Needing to have his hands on her skin, he tore at her shirt, desperate to have his hands touching the ivory skin underneath it.  He cursed the fabric when it wouldn’t give.  Wrenching herself away from him, she pushed his hands aside and grasped the neck of the shirt.

The cotton split, tearing from neck to waist in one smooth rip. He slid his hands over her smooth skin and she bent back, pressing her hips against him.  He slipped his fingers delicately along her back and had her bra off in one skillful move.

Reality blurred and she struggled to remember just when it was that he had removed his shirt when she felt his bare chest pressing against hers. She pushed at her shoes and kicked them out of her way. She was impatient to be as bare as he was.  She slid her fingers into the waistband of her jeans and Logan pushed her hands aside.

Crouching in front of her, he flipped each button slowly.  Craving quickly built inside of her, fueled simply by the groan that escaped from his throat as he slid her jeans over her hips.  She struggled to remember the last time she had been with a man.  Wondered when the last time was that she had desired one this intensely. It delighted her to discover that the answer was never.

Kicking off her jeans, she reached down to push him on his back. The storm raged deep inside her, threatened to explode uncontrollably. But he surprised her when he counteracted her motion and she quickly found herself on her back, a darkening sky above her. She swore to herself. “This a race or something?”

The sky above her wavered as his palm skimmed along her side.  She arched against him, willing him in her mind to move faster, end it.

“Shh…”

“Dammit.” Her curse quickly changed to a groan as he dipped his head to her chest.  She arched to him as little sighs of pleasure escaped involuntarily from her throat.

He trailed a finger down her stomach before coming to a stop on her lower abdomen.  She squirmed under his hand, anxious for him to continue. The anticipation was exquisite and she flowed freely on the high he was carrying her on.  He chuckled when she sighed deeply in frustration as he slid his hand down to rest on her thigh.

She whimpered, the tension intensifying despite the fact he was barely touching her.  He fought the urge to ravage and claim her as his own. Patience won, his need to extend her pleasure as long as possible too great.

“Tell me you can just walk away. Right this very minute you can just get up and walk away from me.” His hand slid around to the front of her thigh, and rested gently against her pelvis. “From this.” He reached down and she felt her back arch involuntarily as one finger slid inside of her.

Pushing his finger upwards, he pressed his lips against her as he made his way up her body.  She felt him settle himself comfortably next to her and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Wicked amusement flashed deep in his eyes and he slowly withdrew his finger. Her eyes slammed closed as she hissed out a breath.

She pressed herself against him when he slid into her again, struggling to control the roar singing in her ears.  He couldn’t hide his scowl as he watched her fight to maintain control, he growled deep in this throat, frustrated.  “This isn’t something that you can control. I’m stripping it from you. Taking it. You don’t have a choice but to give in.”

Panting, she fought for air.  “No.”

His eyes narrowed.  “You said it yourself. Find a weakness, exploit it.” Sliding his finger out of her, he smiled inwardly as she whimpered at his retreat. “Looks like I found it darlin’.” Sliding down her body, he pushed her legs apart and came to rest between them.  “Or have I?”

The stars overhead blurred as his tongue slid over, against and finally into her.  Feeling herself fall, she fought fiercely to maintain her grip on reality.  She thrashed her head from side to side, pressing her shoulders into the rough ground beneath her. Struggling to find any anchor that would ground her, prevent her from plummeting.

She raised her head to plead with him one last time, needed desperately for him to halt this madness that he seemed determined to elicit from her.  Her heart stopped when she opened her eyes to find him staring back into hers, his tongue sliding lazily against her.

She screamed as the pressure released violently, unconstrained white heat searing through her.  It was scorching her from the inside out. Wave after wave washed over her body, the vicious attack on her system nearly unmanageable. 

The heat receded finally and her body went limp against him.

Replacing his finger inside of her again, he felt the fading convulsions of her muscles against it. He levered over her as he tugged her head back with his free hand. Instantly, she had become his drug. He was addicted and he wanted more. No, not more.

All.

He clamped his mouth over hers as he clawed at the edge of control by his fingertips. Dragging his mouth from hers, he fought for air. Her scent filled his lungs, driving his need even further than he thought it could go. He stared down at her flushed face, her lips swollen from his unrelenting kisses. He needed to see, needed to watch again as she plunged.  “Open your eyes.”

She did as he asked, helpless now to do anything but obey him.  His voice rasped out, his control on the verge of shattering. “Again.”

The orgasm shattered through her unexpectedly, her body exploding.  He went mad, no longer able to contain his hunger and with a snarl he reared up to his knees. Grabbing her hips, he lifted them to his and plunged into her. He saw it then, noticed the exact moment her eyes changed. The color exploded in them, lighting them to a vivid emerald that was certainly one of kind.  He cursed her as her eyelids closed over them, denying him the intoxicating color. 

Reality ceased to exist as her hips pistoned to match his every stroke.  Somewhere in her mind she heard his voice echoing. Something about her eyes. Opening them, she stared back into his, searching.  He simply whispered to her again, never taking his eyes from her face.

“Again.”

She lost conscious thought when her vision went black as every muscle in her body clenched painfully in chorus. She screamed once more, her voice resonating through the trees at the edge of the forest.

Satisfied, for now, that she had given herself completely; he buried his face in her neck.  Fisting his hands in her sweat soaked hair he followed her into the blackness.

 

******

 

A vast sea of stars spread out overhead.  She stared fascinated as they made their long sojourn across the night sky.  She found herself unable to sleep, full of restless energy that she had not burned off earlier.

She shifted slightly, the worn wool blanket scratching her back below her. 

Unable to bear lying still a moment longer, she silently rose and walked to the water’s edge.  Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Logan’s chest rise and fall in even breaths.  Relieved she hadn’t woken him, she dipped a single toe into the frigid water.  Fall was beginning to make its presence known in the lake even though it was still summer.  The glorious time between seasons where the world wasn’t quite sure of itself.  The days were hot and humid.  The nights chilly and moist.

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for the shock of cold water against her legs as she stepped in the water.  That very same breath came rushing back out as she stopped suddenly, the icy water lapping around her knees.  Realizing the slow way was not going to be the way to go, she bent her knees and pushed off the muddy bottom.  The jolt of cold water hitting her chest nearly stole her breath as she dove under the water.

She surfaced almost immediately.  A layer of goosebumps broke out along her body as her skin adjusted to the swift temperature change.  Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, she felt the soil give way beneath her feet and realized she was in shoulder deep water. 

She debated about swimming out further when something brushed against her leg, sending a fresh wave of shivers up her body.  Startled, she pushed off the bottom, moving herself several yards from where she once stood.

She jumped again as something slid against her thigh.  Bracing herself to jump yet again, she gasped as a pair of hands clamped around her hips and held her steady.  Logan surfaced behind her.

Annoyed she tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and pulled her back against his chest. 

“Asshole.” She said struggling to contain her laughter.  She sighed and laid her head back against Logan’s shoulder. 

“So are you ready to finish telling me what happened to you and who exactly the hell Simon was.”

Startled Brenna turned and faced him.  “What?”

“After the other night, you said ‘Simon’s gotten stronger’ since you last saw him.”

Brenna replayed the night back in her head.  Sighing, she set her hand lightly on his shoulder.  “You’re right, I did.  I apologize for not explaining sooner.

“My opinion of Simon has changed drastically over the past few days.  And I’ve been coming to terms with it; I probably should have explained everything to everyone sooner.  I spoke with the Professor about it and just naturally assumed he told you all.”

Logan shook his head no and waited for her to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Brenna began.  “A girl can be foolish and naive in her young age. Back when I was just over a hundred years old, I thought I ruled the world.  I had immortality and I had love. Then I hit reality like the proverbial brick wall.  The man I loved betrayed me.”

“Simon?” Logan whispered.

Brenna could do no more than nod her head in agreement. She slid her hands through the black crystal water watching the ripples the movements created.

“Then why…?” Logan trailed off.

“Funny as it is, it turns out he really didn’t betray me after all.  He was trying to protect me from Alaric.” Her voice became thick with emotion and Logan could hear her lilt increase in weight as her voice grew thicker.

“And what about Alaric?” he said, trying to change the subject and draw fire from her instead of sorrow.

It worked.

Brenna’s eyes narrowed and she nearly hissed the words out.  “Alaric Merris is the worst kind of immortal there is.  He preys on innocent immortals and takes their power, purposefully avoiding the stronger ones until he gains more power. He’s waiting until the time of The Gathering, when he should be indestructible.”

“Gathering?”

Brenna’s face softened and she smiled. “Yes, it’s when there are only a few of us immortals left, we’ll feel this unrelenting pull to one specific place, where we will fight until only one is left.”

Puzzlement shadowed Logan’s eyes.  “So why is this Alaric after you anyway?”

“For some reason, Alaric didn’t register that I was an immortal before he killed me.  He was rather new to the immortality thing himself and wasn’t aware that immortals can tell when other immortals are near. That’s how I knew Alaric was near, though I can’t explain why he was a shadow.  The only explanation I can come up with is he killed another immortal with the power of the shadow.” 

Waving a hand in dismissal, she turned so her back was to him again, and laid her head on his shoulder.  “He’s gone for now, he’ll come back when he’s ready.” Gazing over the calm lake, the black water shimmered under the full moon that seemingly hung in mid air.  “It’s beautiful.”

Logan nodded his head, reluctant to say anything.  This part of the lake was his place.  He came here when he needed to get away from the school, the noise and the people.  He had never brought anyone out here before and wasn’t sure why he had brought Brenna. 

He had done so without hesitation, without thought.  And it still puzzled him.

The silence overwhelmed him and he suddenly felt the need to speak. “I come here when I need to get away.  This is where I was the night…” He trailed off as he slid a hand up her right side and rested it lightly over the place where a few weeks ago, her skin had hung in shreds.  He frowned as regret filled him.

Turning, she saw the guilt that wore heavily on his face.  Realizing he blamed himself, she sighed.  “Logan, you didn’t hurt me.”

His chest rose and fell under her hand as he sighed heavily.  “No, I didn’t.  But I didn’t know that at the time.  That still doesn’t mean that I can regret it any less.”

Her hand was cool and damp along his face as she laid her hand on his cheek.  Pulling his face to hers, she slightly brushed her lips over his.  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.  There’s a list of others that have done far worse than you ever could.”

“But the fact remains, I’m now on the list.”

Frustrated, she pulled away from him.  She felt her face heating despite the icy water she was partially submerged in.  “Dammit.  I said forget about it okay?”

She watched as a pained expression crossed his face.  He repeated back the words that she had said to him only hours ago.  “I can’t.”

Furious, she turned to him.  “Get over it Logan.  You’re pissing me off.”  She dove under the water and surfaced only when she reached the opposite shore.  She pulled herself from the water and paused momentarily to look back across the lake.

She narrowed her eyes in contempt when a dark figure exited the water and collapsed onto the blanket.  Let him brood for a few hours, he’d get over it.

She detoured her path slightly when she realized she was still nude and entered the house through the kitchen.  Creeping carefully through the door, she silently praised whoever had left the backdoor unlocked.

The door closed behind her with a click and she made her way across the kitchen to the main doors.  Blinding light suddenly filled her vision and she gasped throwing her hands to her eyes.

“Brenna?”

“Jean?” Recognizing the voice she dropped her hands to her side and sighed.  “You scared me.”

Rushing forward, Jean nearly knocked Brenna off her feet when she slipped on the tile floor. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Brenna slapped Jean’s hands away, trying to stop her impromptu medical inspection of her. “Jean, I’m fine.”

She stood back and clasped her hands in front of her, unsure.  “But your sopping wet and you’ve got no clothes on.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

Hurt, a pain expression crossed Jean’s faced. Turning, she tried to hide her embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Brenna sighed and instantly regretted snapping at her.  “No, I’m sorry Jean.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”  Her hands dropped to her sides and balled into tight fists, her anger once again rising.  “I just took my anger out on you instead of that overgrown childish asshole.”

Realization spread over Jean and she narrowed her eyes at Brenna.  “What did Logan do?”

“Breathed.”

Jean threw her head back and the room was soon filled with her laughter.  Wrapping an arm around Brenna’s shoulder, she steered her out of the kitchen.  “Come on, let’s get you into a hot shower and get some clothes on, then you can tell me what the idiot’s done now.”

 

******

 

Brenna yawned and raked her hands over her head and down through her hair.  She had found herself still unable to sleep and had figured she would make the most of it.  She had thrown on a pair of old sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt and made her way back down to the kitchen.

She lifted her arms high above her and stretched luxuriously as she backed into the kitchen door and shoved it inward with her butt.

A chorus of gasps greeted her as she stepped into the dimly lit kitchen, her own gasp joining in as she stepped back, startled. “Wha-“

Jean giggled and slid off the counter.  Holding her hand up to mouth to silence Brenna, she reached around her and slid the door closed.  “You want to give us away?” Waving a hand at Brenna to join, she hopped back onto the counter.

Brenna could do no more than simply stand and watch the group in fascination.  Jean, Ororo and Rogue all sat cross-legged on the counter surrounding a vast assortment of liquor.  Most of the bottles were half empty already and the way shots were quickly being drawn and knocked back, it didn’t appear they would last much longer.

Rogue lightly tapped a salt shaker over Jean and Ororo’s outstretched wrists, then quickly did the same to her own.  She glanced over at Brenna, but simply shrugged her shoulders when Brenna shook her head in refusal. 

All three women quickly downed the golden liquid in their shot glasses and sighed as the fluid slid into their stomachs.  Jean wiped her hand across her lips, wiping away excess tequila and smiled at Brenna.  “You sure you don’t want any?”

Brenna shook her head.  “Thanks.  What’s the occasion?”

“Men are asses,” Ororo mumbled out before taking another shot, forgoing the salt and lemon this time.

Brenna bit her lip to suppress her laughter.  “I’ll drink to that.” She snaked a hand between Rogue and Jean and quickly palmed the full shot glass sitting before Jean.  She quickly downed the tequila and smiled at the slow burn it produced as it slid down to her throat.

Jean giggled helplessly and tilted her head back as she swallowed another shot.  She gasped for air and pointed at Rogue.  “Rogue’s man is out of town at the moment, but they had a huge fight before he left. Saying he needed space.”

“Goddamn Cajun.” Rogue cursed as she slipped another shot of the tequila past her lips and tried her best not to look heartbroken.  “Like you’re any better off, Jean.” Rogue hissed out, her temper rising as she replayed the night before Remy left over in her head.

Jean’s head shot up and she did her best to quiet Rogue.  “Rogu-“

“Can’t make up your fucking mind between the two of them.  Just ain’t right.  Ororo and I sit here pining after men who couldn’t give a shit, and you got two men infatuated with you.” Rogue shook her head as she downed another shot.  “Just ain’t right.”

Brenna tilted her head, gulped another shot and smiled at Jean.  “Who are these lucky fellas?”

Jean emphatically shook her head, denying what Rogue just said.  “She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”  She lowered her voice at the last few words, her ice green eyes piercing through Rogue.

“I’m not drunk.” Rogue spat out.  “I know what I’m talking about.”

“Shut up Rogue.”

“No, I will not.  You carry on with Little Miss Perfect attitude, acting like you’re better than everyone else here.” Rogue hissed and slid another shot of tequila down her throat.

Brenna watched in fascination as the two women verbally sparred.  “You know he’s in love with you, and you flash it constantly in his face that you’re with Scott. You don’t get to see the hurt and pain in his eyes when go traipsing off with Scott.  Then you come back and hang on him like he’s everything in the world.”

Another shot of tequila disappeared.

Brenna nervously played with her fingers, feeling she had intruded in on this conversation and really shouldn’t be here.

“One day he’ll learn, one day Logan’ll get his fucking heart stomped on too much, and he’ll learn.”

Brenna opened her mouth to excuse herself but was brought up short by Rogue’s last statement.  “What did you say?”

Jean grabbed for Brenna’s arm, but was brought up short by the woman’s cold stare.  Brenna turned her head back to Rogue and narrowed her eyes at her.

“What?”

Rogue snorted and tossed back another shot, her eyes rolled back and she shook her head in an effort to clear it.  “That overgrown ass is in love with Miss Prim and Proper there.” Rogue waved a hand absently in Jean’s direction and her head rapped smartly against the solid oak counter as she passed out.

Brenna stared at Rogue’s still form, her head spinning wildly at what had just been revealed.  Logan was in love with Jean?

“Brenna, Rogue’s drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Jean stammered, hoping she could make things right.

Brenna gazed at Jean for a few moments, unable to make her mouth work.  She swallowed hard and made herself speak.  “Is it true?”

“I – I”

Brenna slammed her fist into the solid wood and felt the bones in her hand crack.  Brisk numbness washed over her hand, and her knuckles instantly swelled.  Dammit, how could she have been so stupid?

She intruded into these mutants’ lives and now she was paying the price. “I shouldn’t be here.” She turned and stormed out of the room.

Jean watched her go and dropped her head down into her hands. 

 

*******

 

Brenna stared down over the piece of paper and realized this was the coward’s way.  The words on the paper blurred as her vision wavered and she blinked furiously to clear it.

After last night, she was determined that she was going to leave.  That this wasn’t the place for her.  She didn’t fit in here and she never would. 

The thoughts had first trailed into her head after the night she killed Simon, knowing that Alaric had found her.  The thoughts had vanished after Logan had taken her to the lake, but had rapidly been replaced after hearing Logan was in love with Jean.

He was using her as a substitute.  Why not fuck someone else when you couldn’t have the one you wanted?

She re-read the letter and sighed, realizing that this would be for the best. She signed her name to the bottom and carefully slunk down the hall to slip the paper under Logan’s door.

Coward’s way indeed.

 

******

 

A soft knock sounded on her door and she sighed heavily, wishing this moment would just go away.  She dropped herself onto the bed and found she could do no more than stare at the heavy oak door, willing the person knocking to go away.

The knock reverberated through the small room again, and she stared at it, crestfallen.  Whoever it was wasn’t going away.  And she didn’t have to have Jean’s telepathy to know who was standing behind that door.

Gathering her courage, she rose from the bed and slid her leather duster over her arms and settled it on her shoulders. 

She stopped before opening the door and pressed her hand against the aged oak.  “I’m sorry.” She whispered.  “Forgive me, please.” Taking a deep breath, she exhaled it slowly as she pulled on the door to open it.

“Hey darlin’ I got your note.” Logan stepped through the open door and planted a kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the bathroom.  She pushed the door back into its frame, and stepped silently next to the bed.

Logan emerged a few minutes later, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his muscular frame.  “Man, Charlie worked us to the bone today.  I’m gonna take a shower before I stink yo…” His voice trailed off as he spotted the black bag lying on the bed, full of her belongings.  Glancing up, he saw something he feared would happen. Her eyes were no longer the bright, electric green they had been recently.  The sadness and misery was back. The green dull and haunting. “What’s--”

She abruptly shut him off by clamping her mouth down over his.  His surprise was rapidly replaced by arousal as he moved to press his body against hers.  A sharp stinging sliced into his chest and he gasped out in surprise.

Looking down he saw the sword he had given Brenna embedded deep into his chest.  His breath wheezed painfully out of his lungs, and he struggled to get oxygen.  A small trail of blood slipped out of the corner of his mouth, and slid down his chin.

Brenna reached up with her free hand and wiped the blood from his mouth, her eyes full of sorrow.  “I’m sorry.” She whispered.  She braced herself as his legs gave way and his full weight collapsed onto the sword.

Squeezing her eyes firmly shut, she tightened her grip on the hilt of the sword and yanked the blade out of Logan’s chest.  He grunted and collapsed into a heap at her feet.

Sheathing her sword, still coated with his blood, she bent over him and kissed the back of his neck.  “I can’t have you following me.” Sighing, she stood and pulled the bag off the bed.

Her heels clicked softly against the stone floor as she walked across the room, stopping at the door before opening it.  Logan’s labored breathing filled the room.

“Bre…” His voice trailed off, unable to form the words. 

Brenna could no longer control the stinging behind her eyes and let the tears flow freely.  Before she could change her mind, she swung open her bedroom door and quickly stepped out.

“I love you.” She whispered as the door slammed behind her.  She hastily made her way out of the mansion, and refused to look back.

 

[End Part I]

 


End file.
